The Flower and the Flame
by MammaWeasley27
Summary: Fleur's POV for during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. OS, possible eventual OS series (1/3). M for language only.


Fleur was nervous. Not because she was the only girl to be participating in the competition, like that horrid rag, The Daily Prophet, kept saying. No, she was nervous because she was _terrified_ of dragons. She had been ever since one attacked the village near her home when she was just a child.

She, Gabrielle, and her maman had been out playing in the garden when the smoke started tainting the sky, turning it from clear cerulean into a murky mockery of dusk. Gabby had thought it was snow, when the soot started to fall, and didn't understand when their mother hurried them inside and fire called their father for help. He had stepped through immediately and was off, not returning until after dinner, and when he did, his normally jovial face was replaced by a grim mask caked with charcoal. He spoke not a word before he hurried off to the master suite to run a strong bath.

It wasn't until that evening, when she was getting ready for bed, that her parents had sat down with her and explained what had happened. It was the first instance she remembered where her parents spoke to her as an adult - one deserving respect and honesty - despite her young age, only having just returned from her first year at Beauxbatons. She still remembered the way her papa had detailed the carnage he had seen; how he had arrived in time to help assist in looking for survivors amid the molten rubble. He had explained why he had ignored them all until after he had cleaned up, and it made her gag a bit, even now, looking back. The way he had described the scent of charred flesh still sent chills down her back and made her stomach roil.

And here she was, five years later, preparing to go and face one of these fearsome creatures herself, armed with only her wand and her wits. Yes, she was a Veela - a creature of fire - but that was completely different; _that_ fire she could control, bend to her will. Dragon fire was a thing untamed.

Her mouth was dry, and she kept trying to surreptitiously moisten it with her sandpaper tongue. She knew the boys were nervous - Cedric had retched before he left, Harry was sweating and fiddling with his wand, and Viktor… he was more stoic than she had yet seen him, pacing, and cracking his neck and knuckles.

She was grateful that she wasn't first - that daunting task had fallen to Cedric - but being second was hardly any better. She was proud to have been picked to compete, but now she was wondering if she truly had what it took to make it. This was only the first task! If her luck kept up, the next one would end up somehow dealing with water…

The crowd roared triumphantly, drawing her out of her nervous stupor. She stood, wiping off her hands on her tracksuit bottoms and gripped her wand tightly, preparing for the moment when she was called. She could feel the nervous energy radiating through her body, causing her to tremble, yet she refused to cower in fear and trepidation. She heard her name called, finally, and made her way out of the tent's safe embrace.

It was time to face a dragon.

The fact that the Swedish Short Snout was the least aggressive and volatile of the four that day didn't mean a thing to her at the moment; it had only been a small comfort, anyway. She could hardly remember the fortifying words her headmistress had spoken to her earlier while they were huddled together, observing the miniature version she had plucked from the silk bag Ludo Bagman had been totting.

The heat hit her first, before she had even reached the entrance to the enclosure, and she began to feel rivulets of sweat dripping down her neck and temples. As she came into the enclosure proper, she felt as if she had stepped into a massive kiln; heatwaves wriggled in the air in front of her eyes as she looked upon the vibrant green dragon before her. The heat was immediately forgotten; all there was now were those eyes: they were the most intense, mossy-hazel she had ever seen, and their vertical, cat-like pupils were focused solely on her. It was invigorating and petrifying, all at the same time.

Pulling her gaze from that of her scaly opponent for a moment, Fleur cast a glance downwards towards the cache of eggs, spotting the odd one glittering between the dragon's front legs. _Perfect_. Fleur gulped down her rising panic and carefully lifted her wand, pointing it at the beast. " _Soporus_ ," she said as quietly as she could, not wanting to enrage the animal with harsh words or wild movements, knowing she only had one shot before that happened, anyway. Nothing happened at first… The dragon didn't fall asleep, as she was supposed to, but she did look annoyed - she must have registered the magical taint as the spell washed over her massive scaly body, however, the casting wasn't strong enough to pull her under.

 _Merde_.

The beast lifted her head and gave a mellifluous below before she opened her maw and a narrow jet of flame shot towards Fleur, causing her to duck, and run for cover. The dragon stomped her feet and thrashed her tail, her neck whipping out towards the boulder Fleur was taking shelter behind, causing her to shriek and hit the deck as great fangs gouged the rock where her shoulder had just been. Debris flew around her, one piece hitting her above the eye and another, larger chunk falling on her ankle, causing pain to shoot through her body. But there was no time to focus on that now, as the great beast was taking aim to strike again.

Fleur pulled herself up and began a flatout race around the enclosure, dodging from rock cluster to rock cluster in an attempt to outpace the creature's teeth and jaws, tapered jets of flame nipping at her heels as she went. Her ankle was throbbing, matching the frantic beating of her heart. She placed a strong _Protego Maxima_ around herself as she ran, hoping it would work on magical fire as well as it worked on spells.

Eventually, she found she had come full circle and was back near the where she had entered, the gouged boulder to her left and the dragon on her right, still hovering over her clutch of eggs, ignorant of the spare. She decided to try a different approach, and cried out, " _Immobulus Maxima!_ " which - _thankfully_ \- took, causing the dragon to freeze in place. Wand in front of her, she took a step towards the nest and then another, never once taking her eyes from the dragon before her, placing a foot out to carefully test and gauge her steps the closer she got.

She was almost at the nest when the spell broke and the beast emitted another of those strange, melodic roars before the thick, powerful tail took a swipe at her, knocking her off her feet and the air from her lungs. She rolled her body to stop herself from impacting in what surely would have been a bone-shattering blow. Her landing was still awkward, and she ended on her back, a large rock stabbing upwards into her ribs. Taking in a massive, rattling gasp, she shouted, " _SOPORUS MAXIMA,"_ with all she had, and watched in fascination as the creature stumbled and crashed down around her, the ground juddering and bouncing her high when it impacted, causing her to land a second time on that damn rock.

After taking a moment to draw her breath, she rolled over onto her side and attempted to stand. She found it difficult, as her body was trembling so much, and she was certain she was going into shock. As soon as she gained her bearings, she stumbled her way around and across the dragon's prone body, eventually reaching the clutch of eggs, which were disturbed, but untouched, despite the calamity that surrounded them. She haltingly reached down, mindful not to touch any eggs but the golden one for fear of scent marking them, and plucked it up, clutching her hard-won prize to her body as she stumbled and limped away.

A small grin broke over her face. She had done it!


End file.
